


To Love

by cgf_kat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Pining Lance (Voltron), Rape/Non-con Elements, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:12:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgf_kat/pseuds/cgf_kat
Summary: In an alternate ending to S6ep5, after Lotor snaps and forms his robot, he snatches Blue and Red and their pilots before Keith can arrive and flees the scene rather than trying to fight them all just yet.Lance and Allura, in Lotor's clutches in the headquarters of an empire that has suddenly turned against them, are forced to make difficult decisions to protect each other.





	1. Chapter 1

_ I guess I never knew what it meant to really like someone... _

Lance can remember her shouting behind the thick one-way glass, throwing furniture across the well-decorated bedroom she was locked in. Beautiful, but still a prison. He couldn’t hear her curses until Lotor turned on the speakers. 

_...the way I like Allura. _

“Where is Lance! What have you done with him! Where is he!” she was shouting. Over and over and over. 

_ Allura’s not like any other girl I’ve ever met before. _

She couldn’t see him until Lotor changed the temper of the glass - until one deft push of a control turned the one-way glass into a two-way window, and her eyes widened. 

Most of Allura’s armor had been missing, the undersuit all that was left, but at least no one had hurt her. Not yet. 

What had he looked like, though? Most of Lance’s armor was missing too. He hadn’t been beaten too badly, but his hair was matted to his forehead with sweat after vargas strapped to an upright table and shocked. Had it really been vargas, or had it only seemed like it? 

“Why would Voltron betray the Emperor now! After you stood behind him in his ascension? What more is Voltron planning!”

He hadn’t been able to answer their questions. The assumptions they were starting from were wrong. Voltron didn’t betray Lotor. Lotor betrayed them. But now he has the entire empire fooled, except for maybe his generals who abandoned him. 

Lance could still feel the aftereffects of the energy coursing through him as Allura lurched at the window and called his name. He was still shivering then. 

He’s shivering harder now. The cushion pressing into his face is soft, but it’s starting to cut off his air, and the floor under his knees is cold and hard, and his body is weak. Maybe that’s what Lotor wanted. 

Fingers tighten in his hair, pulling without mercy, and Lance bites back a whimper.

“Always so smug. Nothing to say now?” Lotor questions mockingly. 

“If you TOUCH Allura…” Lance snarls. 

He hopes it’s a snarl. But another hand pulls tighter on the arm twisted behind his back and it turns into a frustrated sound that quickly dissolves into a cry of pain. The pressure pulls at his other arm, tugging it tight in the shackle that holds it to the bolted-down leg of the couch-like lounge thing he’s pinned against. Both shoulders are screaming at him. 

“Come now, boy, do you really think you could stop me?”

_ She’s smart, courageous, and makes me want to be a better person. That is so weird to say... _

“Don’t hurt her…!”

Lotor has lost it. Absolutely lost it. It was bad enough to find out he’d been harvesting Altean quintessence for generations. That he had killed thousands for it. But something happened when Allura rejected him at the rift. Something happened when she told him he was no better than Zarkon. 

The pressure holding him down increases, pressing the hard edge of the lounge’s base into his torso. Air is becoming even harder to come by, and his shoulders are still screaming. His right arm feels as if it might snap at any moment. Lance gasps, and his stomach is roiling. 

Why are they in here? Why did Lotor drag him to what looks like his chambers?

...Why can’t he stop shaking?

“I don’t have to hurt her. I can make her life miserable...or yours.” Lotor makes a humming sound. “I would much rather it be yours.”

What...?

_ And I can’t tell her how I feel. She wouldn’t take me seriously anyway. _

Lotor yanks his head up by his hair, forcing Lance to look at him. “What do you think?”

Lance swallows, trying to remember the almost warm, unflappable man who was with them in the castle for weeks. The one who wanted to work with them. The one who smiled at Allura and meant it. Surely he’s still in there somewhere. Surely it wasn’t ALL a lie...

“You don’t have to do this - any of this. You care about Allura; I know you do. Stop this while you still can!”

A flicker of conflict. Pain, across the purple features. But it’s gone more quickly than it showed itself and Lotor is snarling back at him - much more effectively than Lance tried a moment ago, he notes dully. 

“Don’t think you can condescend to me! You always thought you were better than me; don’t think I didn’t see it! Your snide remarks and your laughing.” A low chuckle. “You are nothing, paladin.”

_ I don’t have anything to offer. I’m just a boy from Cuba, not a space prince like Lotor. _

“Maybe...but you’re not this. You don’t have to be this! You can - !” 

“Silence!”

He finds his face buried entirely in the cushion, pressed into it. He can’t breathe. His wrist is being squeezed so tightly he can feel the bones scraping together, but he can’t cry out. No air. He bucks against the pressure at his back and the weight keeping his head down, but he doesn’t have the energy for much resistance. 

No no NO, he can’t die like this. Not smothered in a couch with Allura in danger barely two corridors away. The others out there somewhere, running, still free but still in peril themselves and he can’t just... 

I tried, Allura, he thinks.

Tears press at the corners of his eyes, but they have nowhere to go. His chest heaves but he can’t get air in and out and all it does is hurt. 

Then there IS air, suddenly. His body is so focused on gulping it in when it’s abruptly available that Lance almost doesn’t feel the painful yanking in his hair anymore. The tears have somewhere to go now, down his cheeks, and Lotor can see that, can’t he? Quiznak. 

“Fine…” Lance gasps. “You want me to...just...forget trying to...to get through to you? You got it…” He coughs, and that hurts too. His throat is still raw from screaming before. 

If there is anything left of the Lotor they knew, he refuses to show himself. Maybe it’s better, for now, to forget him. To pretend they aren’t the same person. Not that he ever liked Lotor much to begin with, but Allura did. She cared about him. And that just makes all of this worse. 

It makes it hard to compute when the sharp fingernails of the hand that is no longer in his hair dig into his shoulder and neck instead, ripping open his undersuit until his back and most of one side are exposed down to his hip. The sudden cold air sends a sharp shiver up his spine, wracking through him harder than the trembling he hasn’t been able to stop since they strapped him that table. 

“What are you doing!” He hates the way the pitch of his voice ticks up.

“You said you didn’t want me to harm Allura…” 

A smooth hand slides down his side to his hip, almost caressing, and Lance’s blood runs cold and his breath hitches as what they’re doing in here finally starts to click in his sluggish mind.

“No—” 

What the quiznak. What. The. Quiznak. No. No no no no NO…

But he can’t struggle. Not really. Not with his arm pinned the way it is and Lotor’s strength contending with his own exhaustion. 

Teeth nip at his neck. “I could stop, and you could go back to your cell. I could always send for Allura…”

Lance scoffs, or tries to, but it comes out wavering. “You...you couldn’t force her to do anything.”

“She may be every bit as strong as I, but there are other ways.” As if in emphasis, the toe of Lotor’s boot taps at the shackle around the base of the lounge that keeps his quarry where he is.

Lance sobs once, frustration and despair as he realizes the situation Lotor has put him in. 

“No…! Don’t hurt her.” He pulls on the restraint around his wrist, but it’s futile. If these are designed for Galra it would be futile for Allura, too, no matter how strong she is. 

No. No no no, not Allura.

_ I don’t have anything to offer. I’m just a boy from Cuba. _

“Don’t you dare. Don’t TOUCH her!” 

“Are you sure?” The hand at his waist pushes lower, fingers slipping under the edge of what’s left of his undersuit. 

_ She...makes me want to be a better person. _

Lance sucks in a panicked breath. He may understand the decision he’s making, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her…” It’s almost a mantra. Almost babbling, now, through the tears streaming down his face, but if he stops saying it he might say something else. Lotor might change his mind. He might do something to Allura. 

_ I guess I never knew what it meant to really love someone…the way I love Allura. _

It’s going to hurt. The breath near his ears becomes a growl again as the hand as his waist yanks away and shreds the remains of his suit, and he knows Lotor is going to enjoy this...enjoy taking out his frustrations. 

But Allura will be safe. And they just have to hold on long enough for the others to find a way to get them out of here...

He can’t breathe. His head is free and it has nothing to do with the lounge cushions under him but he can’t breathe. 

Allura will be safe. Allura will be safe. Allura will be safe…

Lance closes his eyes.

_ Are you guys even listening? _


	2. Chapter 2

****_ I’m just so angry with myself for allowing this to happen. _

“Allura…”

The speaker comes on before the window becomes transparent - Lotor’s voice floating into the trashed bedroom around her. Allura jumps to her feet from where she’d been sitting hunched against the end of the bed.

“Allura, it doesn’t have to be like this. We could bring peace to this universe together.”

“I thought you wanted to destroy us all now,” she scoffs.

The voice becomes hard. “Do not misunderstand me. I will if I must…” It softens again, and for a moment she can almost pretend that he hasn’t gone mad. “But I would much rather make you my queen.”

_ I played right into Lotor’s hands. _

Allura’s fists clench as she faces the dark glass. “Show yourself!” 

Lotor has been gone for hours - since he dragged Lance from the observation room he is standing in now. But he is alone this time, she notes, as the window clears up. 

“Where is Lance!”

He looked so awful the last time, shaking and sweat-drenched when they let her see him, just for a moment. She didn’t have to think far to know what they must have done to him, and it’s been even longer now.

Lotor’s voice hardens again, and his scowl with it. “Always so worried for that boy. He is alive, Allura, but that is no guarantee he - or any of the other paladins, once we have found them - will remain that way.”

“Why did you have to hurt him?” she questions. She didn’t want to ask it when he was there before, when Lance could hear her. She knew her voice would break, like it is doing now.

The deranged smirk she receives in answer is like a freezing vice grip on her insides. 

“You don’t know the half measure of what I’ve done to him, Allura. And his suffering can easily be followed by that of the other paladins.”

Allura’s air runs out, and her knees feel weak. She forces herself to remain standing, but it takes a long moment to regain enough breath to speak. “W-wh...what do you mean? What...what have you done?” The anger comes back in a rush, propelling her forward. “What have you done!”

Lotor disappears from the window, but the door opens. He is at her side in an instant, taking her wrist in a vicious grip. Her first instinct is to flip him again; the only thing that stops her is worry for Lance. 

“Why don’t you see for yourself what your resistance has done to him?” 

_ I fear my actions have placed us in this dire situation.  _

When she doesn’t struggle his grip on her arm loosens, but he still keeps hold of it to drag her from the room, out through the observation room and down the corridor.

“See?” he says, holding up her wrist. “When you are cooperative, there is no need to hurt anyone.”

“What do you WANT?” Allura questions desperately.

Lotor stops. He turns to her and the tight but not painful grip on her wrist becomes almost gentle, his thumb working in caressing circles on the inside of her arm. For a moment, once more, he seems to be the man she thought she knew. 

“Allura...I want you at my side. None of that was ever a lie.”

_ This is my fault. I trusted Lotor. I helped him build and empower his ships. _

“Then why are you doing this? No one in chains can truly be at your side - surely you know that. You have tried to put it into practice before! You have tried to work WITH people rather than enslaving them!”

“And more often than not, they were destroyed by my father anyway; much good that did,” he snaps back.

Allura swallows. “You will never get anything you want by acting this way.” Please, she thinks. Please still be in there. 

She thinks, for the briefest of seconds, that maybe he is listening. 

But then he spins away and drags her on. “That is where you are wrong.”

_ I was fooled by him, and it’s put the entire universe in jeopardy.  _

Down another corridor, and into another that truncates in a large set of doors that open into a sizable sitting room. Private quarters. He drags her through it and into a bedroom, and at first she is fighting, fearing what he plans to do and wondering if saying he was taking her to Lance was only a ruse, but then...

As the lights raise he releases her, sending her stumbling toward the edge of the room. A seating area at the edge of the spacious bed chamber.

“There is your paladin, Princess.”

The central lounge piece of the sitting area is ruined - stained with blood and...other things. Her stomach is already turning when she sees the remains of the tattered suit on the ground and the figure at one end of the couch, huddled under a thin dark blanket and facing away from them. Faintly she is thankful he was even given that. 

“No…” Allura stumbles over her own feet getting to him, coming down hard on her knees at the end of the lounge. The huddled figure is curled into the slanted back, shivering even in semi-unconsciousness, face buried and blanket pulled up to his ears. Even with little more than his hair showing, she can see injuries - blood at the roots in places where his hair was pulled too harshly. 

“Lance…” Her voice breaks as she reaches for him, but she thinks better of touching him now when he isn’t aware of her yet. “Lance…?” 

As if just clawing closer to consciousness the second time she says his name, he startles, head rearing back and arms drawing closer around him, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. A sound of pained protest tears itself from his throat before he focuses on her.

“It’s me, Lance…!” 

“Allura…” he gasps. His voice is barely there. “Wha...no. No, why are you here! Why—!”

“Just to see you!” she says quickly. Her chest clenches at what he might be afraid of. “Just to see you…”

His breathing slows, and the wildness in his eyes fades until there is nothing left in them but exhaustion...and shame. 

_ How can the coalition ever be expected to trust me, when I’m not sure I can trust myself? _

No. No no no, that last does not deserve to be there. She covers his hands with her own, swallowing at the blood and chaffed skin around the single cuff still fastened on his left wrist. It’s pair will have been clamped somewhere else then, and she doesn’t want to think about why.

Lance won’t look at her now; he releases the edges of the blanket to clasp back at her hands, but he buries his face in them. As his shoulders shake Allura leans closer to rest her forehead against his. 

“Lance…” She whispers to keep out of Lotor’s earshot. He is hovering near the door, his expression unreadable, but he is still here and thank the ancestors Lance is facing away and hasn’t realized it. “Whatever you are thinking, put a stop to it. None of the shame in this is yours.”

A quiet sob. Tears against her fingers. “H-he said he wouldn’t hurt you…”

_ Allura, it wasn’t just you who trusted Lotor. We all did.  _

Allura nearly sobs herself. Is that what Lotor promised him? To what end?

“He hasn’t hurt me, Lance. He won’t. I’m all right…”

Lance...is not fine. The blanket is slipping, and she can see the beginnings of the bruises and scratches that mark his skin - his chest, shoulders, arms...bite marks in the soft skin of his neck and across one ear. The rest that the thin protection of the fabric still hides is left to her imagination, but that is almost worse.

She wants to believe that any other damage is minimal, but she knows that is likely too much to hope for.

“That is enough,” Lotor says. He is motioning out the door, likely summoning sentries or guards.

Lance jumps at the voice, groaning when the sharp movement seems to cause him pain. His breathing picks up in speed again and Allura squeezes his hands reassuringly with one of hers, and frees the other to stroke his matted hair back. 

“It’s all right,” she says again, quickly and quietly. They will be separated again in a moment; she is sure if it. “He will not hurt me, and I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”

When he calms and tries to smile at her through the pain on his face, it takes her breath for a moment...the relief that Lance is still...Lance. “Isn’t that my job, Princess?” he whispers. 

_ I had more reason than anyone not to trust him, but he did everything right. _

“Just hold on. The others will find us.”

“I know…”

The sentries are on them, then, one pulling her up, away from him, and two more yanking Lance up from the couch. The way he shouts when they move him stabs at Allura’s chest when she can do nothing to help him.  

“He needs medical attention!” she pleads. Lotor ignores her. 

With trembling arms Lance manages to get the blanket cinched around his waist, but his legs seem to be doing almost nothing. Not supporting him, even with the sentries holding him up, and he is gasping as he hangs from their grasp while they drag him away.

Allura is trembling herself by the time they’re gone - rage and sorrow and hatred and everything she would not let herself give in to before now. Not entirely. 

Before she had hope that maybe the Lotor she knew was not dead. 

That hope is gone now. And the spark in his eyes she saw in the corridor...it means nothing. She can’t allow herself to believe it means anything anymore. Not now. Not after this. 

It hurts too much to try. 

_ He didn’t just fool you. He fooled us all. _

“Why?” she demands. Her voice is breaking, and it doesn’t matter to her anymore. “How could you?”

He levels an even stare at her. “So you know that I mean what I say when I tell you that I will not hesitate to do what is necessary to achieve my goals.”

“What does that mean? What do you want!” Her fists are clenched at her sides, and if she did not have Lance to think of she would lash out with them. 

“I have already made that clear, Allura - you. As my queen.”

“I will never…!”

“What you prefer that your friends die? Slowly?” He takes her arm again and pulls her from the room, back out into the corridor. “I did make a promise to your paladin. I will not harm you, but I made no such promises about anyone or anything else.”

He brings her back to the room she has been locked in, going inside with her this time and dragging her across it to another panel that looks like it may be the same sort of window as the observation window, only not as large. And it has always been dark until now. When he presses on a small section of wall beside it, and a recessed control box pops open, her suspicions are confirmed. 

But why would this window operate from in here…?

A touch of the controls, and the panel is transparent. All that is on the other side is a small cell. Two sentries, a guard...and Lance. There is no reaction from any of them, so the window must be only working one way right now. 

The sentries all but drop Lance onto the floor by one of the walls, and she can hear his cry. Lotor has turn on the audio at least that way, too, and she flinches. 

The guard moves in to snap the cuff still around Lance’s wrist to a new pair for it that is already secured to the wall. Allura is distracted enough with the sentries and guard leaving the cell and with watching Lance worriedly that she doesn’t notice, at first, the remote Lotor pulls from his pocket. 

She catches the movement from the corner of her eye only as Lance shouts and stiffens, his back slamming into the wall behind him. 

_ Let me tell you, as someone who’s made a million mistakes... _

“No! What are you doing!” Allura cries. 

The cuff restraining him to the wall is crackling, sending energy through him. 

Allura lunges for the remote, but though Lotor would not be able to hold her off for long, he doesn’t have to. He keys the remote up further, and in the next room Lance screams.

“Now, Allura, let’s not get excited. I could easily kill him with this.”

“Stop! You have done enough!”

Lotor takes her shoulders roughly and spins her back to the window. “I have not done nearly enough if you do not understand what will happen if you do not cooperate.”

On the other side of the window a desperate Lance tugs at the restraints even as he casts his eyes around the cell, not understanding what is happening, or why. But then his eyes seem to almost meet hers even though she knows he cannot see her. He’s made out the panel that is the window, at least. 

“Allura! Whatever he wants, don’t do it!” He tries to lean forward, but a wave of energy and pain send him crashing back against the wall again. “Don’t do it!”

“Please stop,” Allura begs. Her hands go to the glass, her fingers curling into it when she flinches with Lance’s hoarse screams.

“Join me,” Lotor says. “Or he dies, and so will the others.”

“Allura! Don’t...!”

_...all you can do is get up and try to make it right. _

“If you do as I ask, he will live. And I will not harm him any further. I will even call off the search for the other paladins - they cannot form Voltron without the two of you and your lions as it is.”

The hand on her shoulder is almost gentle now. 

Allura blinks back the tears in her eyes. She will not cry them in front of him. “If I do this, will you let him go? They still cannot form Voltron without the lions. You can let him go.”

She knows the others are coming. She knows they will try. She can keep anything up for a few days’ time, perhaps, but if she can get Lance to safety now all the better. 

“No. I will not release him. However, we can perhaps find him...better accommodations. Later. Once you have proven yourself.”

_ You can’t doubt yourself now. _

Allura swears internally, but she straightens her back. Sets her jaw. When she nods silently Lotor keys the control, and the energy switches off. Lance slumps against the wall, gasping but no longer being actively tormented.

“Allura…” Lance moans. He still doesn’t seem to be able to see them. His eyes are searching for something to grasp onto, but there is nothing. Just the dark window and the close walls of the small cell. “Allura don’t…”

She wishes she could listen to him. But...at least now he will be safe. Her family will be safe.

She can do anything, for a few days. If it’s to keep them safe. 

Lotor nods in satisfaction and darkens the window again. The sound cuts off, too, and they are left in the deafeningly silent bedroom. 

“I will have more clothes brought for you; you seem to have destroyed what was here…” 

Her fists clench at the amusement in his voice. It wasn’t supposed to be funny. But she says nothing for fear of breaking the forced truce they’ve come to. 

“You will join me for dinner tonight. And afterward,” Lotor says, in no uncertain terms. “We will seal our agreement.”

Inside Allura is trembling, but she stares him down impassively until, finally, he leaves. As soon as the door slides shut she collapses against the wall under the window to Lance’s cell. 

She isn’t sure how long she is down there. When she has enough presence of mind to think again she is curled with her knees against her chest, the black fabric over her legs damp from tears. 

_ We need you. The universe needs you. _

When she pulls herself to her feet, she realizes Lotor left the control panel open for Lance’s window. She reaches for them, finding the setting for two-way audio.

She doesn’t think there is any sound at first, until she makes out the sound of quiet crying.

“Lance…? I’m here.”

_...all you can do is get up and try to make it right. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and etc on chapter one! I really appreciate the support, and I always looks forward to hearing what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

_ When Lance was seven, he fell out of a tree on his parents’ farm.  _

“Allura...don’t. Allura…?”

Lance talks to the dark window until he’s sure there must not be anyone on the other side anymore. The shackle holding his left wrist to the wall hasn’t activated in a while, and he never heard anything to begin with. It was only speculation, but…

It had to be Allura. And Lotor, probably. There was no one in his cell with him to instigate the shocks, and that window was just like the one in Allura’s room...cell. They had to be using him against her, somehow...the same way Lotor used her against him. It had to be something, and he feels sick just thinking about it. 

Not that he needs much prompting to feel sick. Everything hurts, from the inside out. It’s easier to think about it that way, rather than taking stock of the various sources or thinking about why. It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t. 

_ He was so intent on trying to warn Veronica about a cracking branch she was stepping on herself that he didn’t watch his own feet. _

Lance closes his eyes against the flashes of memory as he lowers his body to the floor, trying to find a position that’s less painful. The sentries left him in something like a sitting position against the wall and that...does not work right now. At all. He manages to find a marginally-less-awful position curled into the wall on his side, with his face buried in the arm being held up, but by the time he’s eased himself down he’s trembling with exhaustion. And pain. And cold. And probably shock, or something. 

_ The branches scraped at him on the way down, everything spun, and then he hit the ground and...there was nothing, for a moment or two. _

Without thinking, Lance tries to sing. Just to do something to distract himself. A song his mother used to sing him when he was upset, or sick. But it hurts his throat too much, and that particular pain isn’t even as bad as it could be, maybe, but it’s the last straw. He barely gets a bar out and it just...why does it have to hurt? Why does everything have to hurt?

_ When he woke up he couldn’t breathe and pain radiated everywhere. It seemed to come from his very bones. His arm and a couple of ribs were broken, he found out later. _

He isn’t sure how long he’s been crying when he almost misses a faint crackling of sound and the tentative voice. 

“Lance…? I’m here.”

He pulls in a quick breath in surprise. “A…” His throat sticks at first when he tries to use it. He swallows, and what he gets out is barely a whisper. “Allura...?” 

It still hurts. Of course it does. But for her, it doesn’t matter.

“It’s me. Are you…? How are you…” 

He can almost see her stopping halfway through the first question, shaking her head at herself and changing it. Lance manages a weak chuckle, though he isn’t really sure how. “I’m...here…”

_ Just lying there he couldn’t even cry. He couldn’t move and he was just shaking as his mom screamed and ran to him and his dad called an ambulance and… _

A sound. Maybe a breath, or a sob. “Lance...I am so sorry. About all of this. I—”

“It’s not your fault…told you on the bridge...it’s not…”

Silence for a moment. “And you still believe that?”

“Of course I do.” He looks up, down in the direction of his feet to the window, which is still dark. “Are you able to - can I see you? Where are you?”

“I am right here, but I cannot see you either. I think I could make the window transparent, but I didn’t want to do that if you weren’t comfortable with it…”

Lance glances down to be sure the blanket still knotted around his waist is covering everything below that. It already is, but he pulls it a little tighter just to be sure, and dries his face. Other than that it doesn’t really matter, does it? She saw him back there; she already knows he looks like hell...she knows what happened. 

“It’s fine…”

He needs to see her. He needs to know she’s still all right.

_ The rest of the memory is fuzzy, but he remembers gentle fingers in his hair and voices soothing him. His mother singing to him to keep him calm until help came. _

Something in him relaxes a little when the window clears and she’s standing right there. He realizes it’s the same room he saw before - just a different angle. 

Oh. Of course. Of course Lotor would do that.

Lance tries not to wince as he looks up, but Allura is already making a face, and he doesn’t think it’s because he is. Something...there’s something in her eyes. She looks otherwise the same as she did the last time he saw her back there, not even that long ago. Maybe a varga. But there’s something. And she’s just looking at him - or not even exactly looking at him, really - and she hasn’t said another word yet. 

“Allura...what happened? Are you all right? What did he…?” His aching throat closes up for reasons other than pain - fear, dread...he doesn’t know what he’s expecting. 

_ He should have died, probably. He fell far enough. It was nothing more than dumb luck he hadn’t broken his neck or something else important when he landed.  _

She is definitely avoiding his eyes. 

“Allura?”

She takes a deep breath as if to steady herself. “Lotor has made it clear that if I wish for you to remain alive I will...play along.”

“With WHAT? What does he want?”

“Me,” she whispers. “At his side.”

“What? Like his queen or empress or whatever? I know you’d just be faking it, but what about the coalition? If it got back to them—”

“I believe I can hold him off on anything too public long enough for us to get out of here. The others may find a way, but I will be looking for one myself. And if any word of any of it gets out, it can be explained later.”

She still won’t look at him. Why won’t she look at him? 

“What is it?” There can’t be more to it than that. Lotor wouldn’t...he promised. Didn’t he?

_ He should have died a few weeks ago, too. When the explosion from those panels hit his lion. _

Allura looks at him, then. And maybe that was why she wouldn’t before because when she does he KNOWS. 

Lance shivers, as if he could get any colder. “No...Allura you...y-you can’t. You can’t. He can’t. He told me he wouldn’t...”

“As far as he is concerned, he promised only that he would not hurt me. And he won’t,” she says. Her arms have wrapped around herself, and she’s looking away again. 

“That isn’t all I wanted and he  _ quiznaking  _ knows it, Allura! I...no no no no, I-I’m sorry…I should’ve—” He can’t breath. He should’ve been paying more attention. He should have been sure. He should have made sure. He should have...something. 

The answer is gentle. “This is not your doing. He manipulated both of us, Lance...but at least he does seem to be keeping the promises he perceives himself to have actually made.”

“I-I tried to get through to him…”

But Lotor is too far gone, and the thought of him touching Allura at all, ever, makes every ache in Lance’s body seem suddenly sharper. Like knives digging into him, into his mind, screaming at him that he failed to protect her. 

_ Allura saved him. Allura. And maybe that day in his lion she had to do it because he saved her first, but if he can’t protect her now too, what is he good for?  _

“I have tried, too,” she’s saying, “but it has come to nothing. I...I do think the man we knew existed. Once. But I also think he is gone now.”

Lance tries not to cry again - he doesn’t want to make it worse for her - but the tears have already started. He lets his head drop back to the cold floor. “Allura, please don’t go with him,” he sobs. “Not for me.”

Silence, for a moment. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asks. It’s almost harsh, but he doesn’t look up. 

“I’m...I’m just…”

“Stop. Do NOT think that this would not be worth it if it were only about you. Lance? Look at me. Lance!”

The strength has returned to her voice. For a moment it sounds like any other day in training - that bark that means she won’t take no for an answer. That in itself is something. It doesn’t stop the tears, but it makes him look up as she asks.

“Lance, it would be worth it,” she continues, more gently. “I would not hesitate. But...as it is, it is not only about you and me. Lotor has also promised to call off the search for the others.”

“Oh…”

“And with every indication that he will keep his word where he admits to having given it, I cannot pass up the opportunity. Please understand…”

He nods because he does. Of course he does. He would do anything for the others, too. 

Or for her. 

Lance doesn’t realize, for a minute or two, that he’s shivering again. Or that he’s let his head fall back to the floor. Or that everything is spinning. _ I tried, _ he thinks.

He always tries. So...so hard. But even this time...even...even after...that...it doesn’t seem to have mattered. 

“Lance?” Her voice sounds faint. Maybe it’s just him. 

“I’m sorry,” he cries. 

“Oh, Lance…”  Is she crying, too? The world is spinning too fast for him to pick his head up. “‘I’ am sorry...for what you suffered. I-I understand what you thought it would buy, but please...don’t think it was in vain. Caring for someone that much is never in vain.”

Isn’t it though? In his case, most of the time, it seems it always is. What does he have for it? Lotor still— 

“Lance, please. What can I do? Is there anything…?”

She’s asking ‘him’ that? 

“I am sorry I can’t get to you,” Allura is saying. “I-I would heal you if I could. I know you are still in pain, as well.”

He gasps through the tears. Why can’t he stop? He knows she doesn’t blame him, but his chest still feels like it’s being held in a vice grip he can scarcely breathe around. “It isn’t...that...” 

“I know,” she says. 

He believes her. He believes she knows. Maybe that’s what makes it easier to calm down, finally. The aftershocks still shudder through him, and it hurts, but it’s better than worrying Allura. 

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks again. 

He hears the note of desperation in her voice, and Lance wonders if, maybe, she needs the distraction now. He could understand that. 

_ Under the tree that day his mother sang to him to keep him calm until help came...but Veronica joined in. If his mind hasn’t rewritten the memory. His sister was worried for him, too. Upset. His mother asked her to sing to keep her mind off of it.  _

Maybe he’s still good for something, after all. 

“Lance?”

“Sorry,” he swallows. “I...I don’t know...c-can you sing?”

His eyes stay on the ceiling, but he can almost hear the relief and the hint of a smile in her voice when she answers. 

“A little, I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! All of you are great! *all the hugs* I can't wait to hear what you think!
> 
> Also...this may have gotten a lot bigger/longer in my head now. Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it's still July 28th where I am, Happy Birthday to Lance! I wanted to do something better (not so angsty...?) for his birthday, haha, but alas I am sick and this is all that came out. XD

_ Allura always wondered if she would make a good leader. _

She sings, and Lance, mercifully, falls asleep before too long. It’s a relief to see his body relax somewhat - to see at least some of the lines in his face smooth themselves out. 

It leaves Allura alone for now, but she can’t begrudge him that. 

She leaves the window transparent much of the time, so she can keep an eye out for any signs of trouble. She only darkens it when the door opens briefly, for a stark-faced Galra woman to bring her more clothing. Like the ones she destroyed when she was first shoved into this room, the dresses are almost Altean in style - not so different from her own clothing, before the war.

Lotor really did study ancient Altean culture, didn’t he? If he had these made. It’s almost as if he was ready for this.

_ She was skilled at flying the castle, yes...and she could take her own father down in training on a good day by the time she was sixteen… _

When the woman tells her she has a varga before the Emperor comes to collect her for dinner, maybe she spends too long staring at the absurdity of her reflection after she changes. At the skirts around her ankles that don’t feel like her anymore. The bile rising in her throat doesn’t help either, when she thinks about the sort of charade these clothes are meant to further.

Maybe she should have gone back to the window sooner, but would it have mattered? 

_ But leading her people? Could she do that? Her father...Alfor was always smiling. Always laughing. Always brave. He had so much wisdom. _

When Allura lightens the window to be able to see through once again, Lance is more curled in on himself more than before. And when did he grow so pale? Even more than he had been? When did his breaths become so short?

She stabs at the audio channel. “Lance? Can you hear me?”

He stirs, but even the small movement seems to hurt him. His free arm wraps more tightly around his abdomen, and a moan is the only answer she gets. 

“Lance!”

“M...Mom…?”

“Lance, it’s Allura. Please wake up. I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Lance!”

His eyes open, finally, but they clamp shut again as he balls up and presses his head into the wall. “Wha...ahhh...quiznak…!”

“Lance?”

“Allur...ra...what...something’s…” He cuts off in a pained, confused cry. 

Is there more blood than there was before? The blanket that covers his legs is dark, it’s difficult to see, but there are places where it sticks to him now - fresh dampness clinging to his skin. 

Oh ancestors, he’s still bleeding. 

“Hold on!”

She runs to the other side of the room, to the door, and pounds on it. “Hello? Is anyone out there? Help! Lance needs help! Something is wrong, please!”

_ Allura could only hope to be as good a queen one day as Alfor was a king. _

The hinges groan under the force she’s exerting on the door, but they don’t give way. Allura continues to pound on the door, on the window, on anything, calling out for help. When no one answers after several doboshes she resorts to actively trying to break down the door or smash the window. 

Neither works. It only leaves her arms and shoulders bruised from ramming them. 

“Lance…?” When she limps back to his window, he is shivering and moaning between shallow breaths, what’s left of his voice cracking on the sounds. “Hold on, please…”

Lotor will come for her. It can’t be too much longer now, can it?

Loss of blood has left Lance confused. His eyes are roaming, his pupils blown out and hazy, and she only hopes it’s soon enough. 

“It’s all right, Lance. You’ll be all right. You’ll…” Allura trails off, and she doesn’t know what else she can say. She can’t do anything else. She can’t reach him. 

So she sings again. It comes out unevenly, but it’s something. She doesn’t know if it does any good. Lance asks for his mother again, and this time she doesn’t correct him. 

What she would give to see her own mother again…

_ “Don’t let me win,” she had to tell her father when they trained. Eventually she realized that sometimes he would. Not all the time. But sometimes. Maybe to bolster her confidence. But when she asked him not to, he didn’t. She won on her own.  _

Her sharp ears catch the movement outside the door before it opens; she has time to cross the room again to stand in front of it as it opens. As expected, Lotor is the one on the other side. 

“Why did no one answer me when I called! Something is wrong with Lance! He could be in serious danger!”

Lotor only blinks, and Allura’s cheeks burn in equal parts anger and embarrassment as he looks her up and down - at the dress she’s wearing - before he even bothers to brush past her to go to the window into the paladin’s cell. 

“His condition has worsened. Something is not right,” she insists. He makes a noncommittal sound, and Allura draws herself up.

“I know why you refused to release him. Need I remind you that you cannot continue to hold his life over me if he  _ dies _ ?”

_ When she asked Alfor if he thought she would make a good leader, it was those requests not to let her win unfairly that he spoke of.  _

Lotor lets out a breath. “Very well. I will have medics sent, but you will come with me.”

“I need to know how he—”

“You will be the first to know, but you will keep our agreement.” His voice his hard - no room for give or negotiation.

Allura glares at him, but she nods once. 

“A...Allur...Allura…” Lance’s voice, from the next room. Confused and breathless. She’d almost forgotten the audio channel was still on. 

She holds Lotor’s impassive gaze with her scowl as she answers. “Lance...you will be all right. Help is coming.” She doesn’t know if he really hears, or understands, but it’s worth it to see the momentary pinch in the skin between Lotor’s eyes. Annoyance, perhaps - or jealousy. Right now it’s easier to give in to the petty side of herself - the one that enjoys causing it. It’s easier than feeling the pain of his betrayal. 

He pushes past her again to bark at one of the guards outside her door. “You. Have a medical team sent to the paladin’s cell immediately. They are to treat him if it’s necessary to preserve his life and report to me as soon as his condition is stable.”

A salute, before the guard hurries away. “Vrepit Sa!”

Lotor looks back to her and holds out a hand. “Coming, Princess?”

She can’t help glancing back to the other window - to Lance. But in the end she straightens her shoulders and steps from the room. 

_ “I think you are well on your way, Allura,” Alfor told her. “I am proud of you. You want to fight your own battles, but if you have questions I may be able to answer, you come to me.” _

Allura ignores Lotor’s offered hand. He really is mad, she thinks at dinner, if he believes he can pretend all is well. She ignores his attempt to engage her in conversation. He asks about Altea - of course he does - but she merely pushes food around her plate. She takes the occasional bite when he stares disapprovingly at her, but she isn’t hungry. How could she be hungry?

“Come now, Allura - this is the beginning of a new era! A new empire. Together we can bring peace to the galaxy. That is what you’ve always wanted, is it not?”

She stabs hard at a piece of meat, breaking her silence. “Not like this.”

“Like what?”

“On the backs of thousands of dead Alteans?” she chokes.

He winces. “I have told you...I am not proud of that. But it was necessary to further the research needed to bring about the peace we both want. Lives are always lost in war.”

“Lives lost fighting for freedom are one thing! People murdered for your own good are quite another, Lotor!”

She can see it when he shutters himself off again - his momentary lapse forgotten. “I’d hoped you would understand, but I am beginning to see that you never will.”

“Never,” Allura confirms vehemently. 

“At the very least you could hide it better,” he snaps. “Your behavior is hardly fit for an empress.”

“I thought you said queen? Which is it you would prefer me to be?” 

Lotor narrows his eyes at her. “It hardly matters to me; choose whatever title you would like for your coronation. Regardless, your attitude will need improvement.”

Enough. She can’t pretend to eat anymore. Allura pushes back from the table, trying to slow the heaving of her chest and the shaking of her hands. “I agreed to this macabre charade to safeguard the lives of my friends. I never promised I would be a good actress.”

He snorts and stands with her. “Very well. If we’re done here…” 

He motions to the door, and she knows what comes next. She follows him because she has no choice. Because Lance’s life and the safety of the other paladins hangs in the balance. But still her feet bring her to a halt outside Lotor’s chambers. Her fingers are curled into fists to disguise that they’re still trembling. 

“Lance…” she says.

“Your paladin will be fine. We have the best doctors in the empire here; there is no need to be concerned about him.”

“Of course I am concerned about him; he is my _ friend _ .”

And thank the ancestors, that is when the guard from before finds them, with what appears to be medic on his heels. Both of them bow curtly.

“Well?” Lotor demands. 

“The paladin is stable, my lord,” the medic says. “He was suffering from internal bleeding, but we have repaired the damage and were able to synthesize enough vital fluids to improve his state. We recommend observation for at least twelve vargas to be certain there are no further complications.”

Allura’s fingernails dig into her palms. Of course. It makes sense, after what happened to him. But even though she knows Lance is being taken care of now, it still makes her heart stutter to think that he could have died in that cell...that Lotor did that much damage to him. 

_ “A balance is needed in any leader,” her father said. “Trust those around you for what they can offer you in support, and counsel…” _

She wants to scream, but what good would that do now? She’s tried that. Lotor has already proven he won’t listen. He is gone. He will do exactly as he says he will if she does not cooperate. He could still have Lance killed, or worse. 

“There,” he’s saying, as the medic and the guard leave them. “See? The boy is fine.” He opens the door to his chambers. “Come.”

_ “...but also know that serving your people can require sacrifice.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I can't wait to hear from you. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, I am sorry this update took so long.

_“Mom? What are you doing here?”_

_Actually...maybe the better question is how is he in his bed at home?_

_“I’m not, sweetheart. You’re dreaming,” his mother says from his doorway._

_“Oh…” He shouldn’t be surprised. It’s happened enough since he ended up in space. But somehow it still hurts just as much every time. “I...I miss you.”_

_She frowns and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”_

_Lance tries to sit up, but the sudden pain in his middle sends him dropping back with a gasp and tears in his eyes._

_“Yeah,” he gasps. His mother is leaning over him, taking him in her arms, and that kind of hurts too but he doesn’t care. “I’m...I’m hurt...I think it’s bad, Mom...” he cries. “I-I don’t wanna die. I want to come home.”_

_She strokes his hair back and kisses his forehead. “You will come home. You’re strong, my son. You’ll see me again.”_

He remembers Allura signing. Lance remembers pain, and thinking his mother was there. Allura being upset...strange hands and scanners and movement. A blur of activity. Then nothing, for a while.

As consciousness slowly reasserts itself, the insistent, agonizing pressure in his abdomen is gone. They fixed it? Is he in an infirmary? But he only catches flickers of voices and purple faces and he’s under again, sometimes. Sometimes he thinks he can hear more, or maybe he’s dreaming. 

Things still...everything still hurts, even if the one thing has stopped. The pain now is more dull. Generalized. Breaking through the haze of medication and bringing him back to vague consciousness over and over before exhaustion drags him back. Lance doesn’t bother trying to stay awake, until something changes. The light outside his eyelids shifts again. The space feels...different. 

The voices are different. He can feel the movement as a weight lowers slowly onto the edge of the bed he’s in.

“You should thank me for having him moved back here, where you can keep watch on him.”

The voice is more distant, not the one near him on the bed, but Lance shrinks inwardly anyway. HIs breath seizes and he keeps his eyes shut. 

“I will not thank you for anything when you are the one who did this to him! And if you expect me to do a single thing you wish me to do you will NEVER touch him again.”

Allura’s voice, and he can breathe again. Carefully. Evenly. A hand folds over his gently on the mattress, a thumb moving back and forth over the back of his, and he wonders if she knows he’s awake.

“If you are cooperative, I will not have a reason to,” Lotor says. He almost sounds bored. 

“Give me your word that you will not harm him again!”

“I already have. Conditionally.”

“What happened to finding him somewhere more comfortable?”

“This room is more comfortable now, with the infirmary bed put in. That will do for the moment. Anything else can wait until you’ve proven yourself honest in our bargain.”

Hesitation. When Allura answers it’s an angry whisper. “Last night was not enough?”

What?

Lance squeezes back before he can think about what he’s doing. He just reacts, his heart jumping into his throat, and if Allura didn’t know he was awake before, she knows now. 

“It was a start,” Lotor quips.

No, no...he knew it was going to happen. He knew what Lotor was forcing her into to keep him alive and others safe, but…

He feels sick. He tries to keep from scowling visibly but he isn’t sure he succeeds.

“Come now,” Lotor is saying. “You’ve seen that he’s all right. The displays have proven that. He is stable and recovering, and you will be able to see him. I’ve also had a call button installed in your room; if you notice anything that his medical devices do not - which is highly unlikely - you can alert someone.”

Lance is relatively sure Allura doesn’t move. If anything, she is squeezing his hand even tighter now. “I would rather stay here.”

“I did not ask.”

Lotor’s tone has hardened, but Allura’s is steel in return. “I will be fine. Here.”

Silence for several moments.

“If I leave, you will be here until dinner.”

“I will be fine.”

A snort. “So be it. But if you heal him, I will kill him myself. Immediately.” 

Allura’s grip loosens at her small sound of protest. There is a hiss as the door closes, and they are alone. Or Lance hopes they’re alone. He risks letting his eyes flicker open in time to catch the distressed expression working its’ way across Allura’s face as she stares at the closed door. 

“Allura…” It comes out in a whisper; his throat is still rough, but least it’s much better than it was. 

The dress the princess is wearing is the same Altean style as the ones Lance has seen her wear on the castle, but the colors are awful Galra purples and grays. She tugs at the fabric of the skirt self-consciously as she turns at his voice, and she doesn’t quite make eye contact. At least she doesn’t let go of his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers, when she says nothing.

Allura ducks her head - whether in thanks or to hide her face he isn’t sure - and twists to pull her legs up onto the bed so she can stretch out carefully beside him on top of the blanket. Lance tries to shift back to give her more room, but that...hurts. 

“Don’t!” Allura gasps. Her voice is wavering as she cries out over his own gasp. “It’s all right, just lie still…”

“Sorry…”

He knows something is wrong when she doesn’t try to scold him for apologizing for the second time in as many minutes. She wraps her arms around his and hides her face in his sleeve instead. He sees her shoulders start to shake before he hears anything. 

Without moving or turning over - which she told him not to do, and he doesn’t want to upset her any further - he can’t reach much more than her arms and her hair, reaching up and across his body from where he’s lying on his back. In the end he shifts onto his side anyway, despite her sniffed protests.

“It’s okay, this - ow - it’s actually more comfortable this way, hold on.” 

A few more gasps and huffs later, and he can hold onto her properly. At least he’s clean now; it must have happened sometime in the emptiness he can’t remember. Someone put him in something similar to drab gray scrubs, too, and he’s thankful for the clothing as Allura cries into his chest. 

“H-he didn’t hurt you, did he? He said—”

“No...I’m all right, I’m sorry, Lance. I—”

“Don’t,” he says quickly. It sounds as if she’s trying to stop crying, and that isn’t what he’s getting at, at all. “Just...just because he didn’t, exactly, doesn’t mean it’s not…th-the same.” 

He isn’t sure how to end that as he stumbles over it. He isn’t sure how that’s supposed to help, either. To let her know she shouldn’t be ashamed to be upset? What? He still can’t think about it much farther himself, or else he finds himself back in that room, too, and he can’t breathe, and— 

Lance pulls in a shuddering breath. A coiled, angry pit forms in his stomach, but there’s not much he can do now. Nothing, really, but hold Allura until she calms again, after a while. 

“I-I um…” He clears his throat carefully, trying to gauge how healed it is. Not as much as he’d like, but it will do. “I can sing okay too, actually.”

Allura doesn’t look up. “You can likely sing better than me, I’m sure,” she mumbles.

Lance smiles a little, even though she can’t see it right now. “I don’t know about that. Not right now, anyway. But I can do my best, if you want.”

Allura just nods against his shoulder.

***

Allura falls asleep, eventually, and Lance lets her rest. Consciousness evades him again for a little while, himself.

When he wakes he feels more stiff than before, and whatever anesthetic or painkillers they’d given him for...surgery? Did he have surgery? What even...happened? No one has explained it yet, and the benefits of anything he might have been given are clearly wearing off. 

“..ance? Lance, can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah, I…”

Allura’s voice is above his head now, instead of in his arms. When did she wake up? How long has it been?

Quiznak, everything hurts again. Not like before, not that bad, but...

“Can you breathe all right? You’re sweating…”

Lance swallows and forces his eyes open to meet Allura’s, which are peering down at him in concern. When he realizes how quick his breaths have become he makes an effort to slow them down. 

“Just...hurts.” He thinks about lying, for a moment. But he doesn’t think it would be wise to lie to Allura. 

She makes a face, and looks up at the displays set into the head of the medical bed. There’s nothing attached to him, so he isn’t sure how they’re getting their information.

“Your vital signs have not changed beyond some elevated stress, which is logical…I’m sorry, it must be the medication wearing off. Somehow it does not surprise me you weren’t given more…”

“Gee, big shocker,” Lance huffs. “What happened, anyway?”

Allura doesn’t look at him as she answers. “You….you were bleeding internally.”

He blinks. “Oh.” From what he does know, he knows that probably means he could have died. 

Because of what Lotor did. 

“Lance? Are you all right? I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head. Maybe his arms have tightened around himself a little, but— 

“-t’s okay.”

Allura shifts beside him to push the blanket down enough to slide her legs under, then pulls it up over their chests as she settles against the head of the bed and tugs him gently against her shoulder. Lance thinks that’s all she meant to do, until she settles a hand over his stomach under the cover of the blanket, and he feels a sudden warmth. 

“Allura!” he whispers. “What—” 

“I can’t know if there is surveillance in this room,” she answers quietly.

“What are you doing! He said not to—”

“I won’t. I just want to see if I can ease some of the pain without actually…” She trails off, likely forgetting to keep talking as she concentrates. The warmth from her hand spreads across his abdomen, but aside from a faint tingling Lance doesn’t feel any other changes. 

Allura lets out a breath after a moment. Her eyes open, and the warmth dies away. 

“Not working?”

“It appears not...let me try one more thing. Perhaps if I could just trick your mind…”

“It’s okay, Allura, really.”

He grunts as she shifts anyway. The arm she hand behind his shoulders pulls back enough that she can rest her hand at the back of his head - hiding it between him and the headboard and hopefully keeping it from the view of any possible cameras. 

Warmth again, for a few moments. But nothing happens. Just a pleasant buzz in the back of his mind, thought it doesn’t lessen the physical pain. 

“I don’t think it’s working...”

A frustrated sound from Allura as she lets her hand fall. “My father could do so many things. He could render someone unconscious with a mere touch—well, that’s more more straightforward; I think that I could do—but more complicated things...I don’t know. Sometimes it seems as if what I can and cannot do makes no sense at all.”

Lance chuckles quietly. “Well none of it makes sense to me, so you’re doing better than I am. Anyway, thanks for trying.” 

She shifts again. “Perhaps if I—”

“Allura, maybe just stop moving! Ow! Ah…”

“I’m sorry! I am sorry…” 

She settles, and once she isn’t moving and he can stop making pathetic sounds it’s...better. Her shoulder is comfortable, and she takes his hand to give him something to squeeze. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“We’re gonna have to...I don’t know...put a moratorium on apologizing or something. I know I’ve been doing it a lot too.”

Allura just hums softly, noncommittal. 

***

Lotor doesn’t let her come back after that day, but Allura can still talk to him through the window. Lance might lose track of time if it weren’t for her. He finds himself sleeping an inordinate amount of the time, but maybe that’s what his body needs. Occasionally a medic comes to check on him, but they don’t stay long and they don’t seem very concerned as long as he isn’t dying anymore. 

Two more days, then three. Allura is always gone at night. Or at least, she doesn’t turn the window back to transparent again until morning. He doesn’t know when she really returns. Every evening when she leaves Lance thinks he might be sick. Sometimes he is, but maybe that’s just because he’s recovering from internal injuries…

Lance is recovering, if slowly, but the longer they’re here, the more worn Allura looks. He thinks she’s trying to hide it; she comes to the window later and later in the mornings, showered and dressed and her hair freshly put up, because there ay be nothing wrong with taking zealous care of her appearance but it has always been one of the ways she distances herself when she needs to. 

Maybe Lance knows that because he does it himself, when he’s not locked in a cell. He can still see the weariness in her eyes. In the breakdown of her posture when she isn’t careful enough. 

“I am looking for a way I might be able to get us out on our own, but I’m not sure I’m hopeful I’ll find one. I’m still attempting to stall Lotor in implementing his plans to have a coronation for me, but I’m sure he knows what I’m doing.”

They’re hoping the others will get to them in time. That’s what they’re doing. After she tells him that, on the third day, is one of the moments Allura slips. She stares at her hands, and it’s difficult to tell through the glass, but he thinks they’re trembling. 

“A movement ago I would have been happy to be his queen…”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself.”

“I-I know.” She sniffs and rubs at her arms. “In any case, how are you feeling?”

He tells her the others will find them. He tells her they’ll get out. He tells her a lot of things. He hopes it helps - it’s helped before - but the longer they’re here, the more the things he says seem to bounce off of thickening walls. 

How does the day they spent huddled together already seem like forever ago?

***

“Lance, come on. Come on, Lance, we gotta go WAKE UP!”

Someone is shaking him, not too much, but enough that Lance wakes with a pained gasp.

“Oh! Quiznak, is it that bad? Lance?”

No one has been in here for days other than medics, and it takes him a moment not only to focus on the blurry greenish figure above him, but to process that she’s real when she solidifies.

“P—” He has to swallow and clear his throat before he can go on. “Pidge…?”

“Yeah…” The relief shows on her face when he recognizes her, but so does the worry. “What hurts?”

“Everything?” he smirks. But he draws a vague motion over his midsection. “Mostly kind of here though.”

“Okay good.” With that she gets a knee up on the bed and latches her arms around his neck. 

Lance isn’t exactly surprised when he finds sudden tears on his cheeks, but he tries to swipe them away before she can sit back up and see them anyway. Trying to do that and return the embrace at the same time isn’t the easiest thing, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know what to say, either; he just holds on until she does let go. 

“Can you get up?” she asks when she sits back.

He winces. “I don’t think so.”

Pidge nods grimly, and calls for Hunk to help.

“Is someone getting Allura? Do you know where she is? I can—” 

“Keith is getting her, and we already found your armour, too. It’s stashed in the fighter we’re gonna use to get out of here. We can’t afford another fight right now; we’re going stealth.”

“Then how’d you get here…?”

They’re interrupted by Hunk barreling around the corner and through the now-open door. He slides to a stop just inside. “Whoa...Lance, you okay? What happened to you?”

Maybe he should have been expecting that question, but he’s still trying to process the fact that they’re HERE. Lance doesnt know exactly what his face looks like, but something makes Hunk’s eyebrows go up, and he exchanges a quick glance with Pidge and shakes his head.

“I-I mean, nevermind. Doesn’t matter. We gotta go anyway. Heard you needed a lift?”

Lance groans at the pun as Hunk slips his arms under his back and legs. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

He tries not to make any noise when Hunk picks him up, but it doesn’t quite work out that way. He didn’t think he was still that bad off, really, but everything sort of gray out for a moment. When he can focus again Allura and Keith are there — Allura looking worried and Keith just looks...angry. Well, that’s nice of him. 

When Allura reaches for his face, Lance is pretty sure what she’s doing. “Wait—” 

“Lance...we will need to be quiet. I know you will try, but it would be safer for all of us if you were not conscious.” When he still hesitates, her expression softens. “It will be all right.”

It isn’t that he doesn’t trust her. What if something happens while he’s out?

“I…” But she’s right. He won’t put his friends in danger. 

_You will come home. You’re strong, my son. You’ll see me again._

“Okay.”

She smiles softly. Someone is squeezing his hand. Maybe Pidge. Hunk tells him it’ll be okay, again, as Allura touches his cheek. 

Then there is nothing, but his last thought is _hey, she did it. I should tell her that was cool later._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think!


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